7 Of Jealousy & Stolen Kisses
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Minho meets an old friend. Friend gets too friendly. Newt gets jealous.


-Of Jealousy &amp; Stolen Kisses-

-Hi, people! So I recently wrote a Newtmas fic and I knew all of you Minewt fans would be like, what the heck, where's my Minewt? Well. Here's your Minewt. :)

Reviews are very appreciated (as long as they aren't rude or mean) and I look forward to writing more for you all. Hope you enjoy the story :D-

Newt had learned quite a few things about Minho since they'd gotten married.

He knew Minho had an addiction to coffee and dark chocolate; he knew Minho had a huge soft spot for his kitten, Coal; he knew how possessive Minho could get of Newt, how his jealousy was sparked when anybody else even attempted to flirt with Newt; he knew how to make Minho laugh, or how to make him come undone in his arms, or the very few things that could make him cry. He knew Minho better than anybody else.

But there were some things he knew about Minho that everyone else knew, and noticed, too.

Newt wasn't stupid or blind. He knew Minho was what most people would call dead-sexy. People noticed him. Frequently. Girls swooned and giggled behind their hands. The occasional boy would blush and smile, and try to separate this gorgeous Asian from the blonde at his side. And THAT was the only thing about Minho that bothered Newt.

Newt HATED being jealous. He hated watching those boys in their leather jackets or too-tight jeans, trying to flirt and tempt Minho. Newt had never been jealous before in his life and it was really hitting him hard now. He knew that Minho would never leave him, or even think of having some one-night stand with a random guy. But Minho was cocky. He was good-looking, and silver-tongued, and he knew it. Sometimes, he'd try the lightest of flirting without meaning to, just to see what the latest guy would do. It was just the way he was. But damn, did it drive Newt mad.

Jealousy was not a nice thing. It was not a thing to be toyed with.

However, sometimes jealousy brought out a possessive side of Newt that Minho rarely saw.

And that side of Newt, that jealousy, is exactly what this story is about.

-o-o-o-

Newt was hating every moment he spent in this driveway. Really and truly hating it.

He and Minho had gone to a party at Brenda's house late that Friday. Her house was more of a mansion really, all soaring walls and golden lights. It was surrounded by green grass and a beautiful, aqua lake out back. Parties were famous there. Music blasted from dusk til dawn, until Brenda kicked everyone out and the maids cleaned up after. How her parents had so much money, no one knew. But they did. So here Newt was after the party, leaning back against his car, waiting while Minho talked with an old friend. He folded his arms over his chest and crossed an ankle over the other. His full weight was against the car now. Overhead, the velvet black of the sky was showered with white-hot stars, full moon sailing high. It was a bit chilly out this late, the wind nipping at the skin his navy, V-necked tee showed. He didn't mind it though. He was much more concerned with this "friend" of Minho's.

"So what happened to all those guys after high school?" Minho was asking curiously. He had his thumbs hanging in his front pockets, posture relaxed. A friendly smile curved his lips.

The guy facing him was a redhead, hair spiky and short. He was attractive enough, with a spray of freckles and glittering green eyes. He raised his eyebrows. "Danny and Brian and them? I dunno, really. The only one I still talk to is Brian, and he's going to school in New York. Gonna be back soon though, I think."

"You two were pretty close, weren't you, Max?" Minho asked, with an arched brow.

Max's cheeks turned pink and he laughed nervously. "Not really," he answered, scrubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, we were best friends, but...yeah. I was closer to you than I was to him." There was a shine in his eyes when he added that last part. He looked at Minho like he was looking at...well...MINHO.

Minho, being the arrogant shank he was, twisted his mouth into his slash of a smirk at the words. He lowered his eyes once, dark lashes drooping. It was subconscious flirting, something he didn't do on purpose. But Newt saw it, and felt his blood burn with annoyance and the familiar sting of jealousy. He swallowed it down, not wanting to look like an ass in front of Minho's friend. He reminded himself that he had a wedding ring on his finger and was taking Minho home with him; that should be enough to fight off useless, hurt feelings.

Minho was speaking again. "Yeah, we were good friends, weren't we? I remember all the trouble we caused for Mr. Janson back in high school."

"Oh god, that was awful," Max snorted, laughter tinging his words. "We were such horrible people to him, with all those pranks."

"Remember the one with the rats?" Minho asked gleefully.

"Absolutely. That was the best one."

"I know, right? Remember—" Minho's next words were lost to Newt as the Asian leaned in closer to Max to speak quietly in his ear. It was like they were old conspirators again, and didn't want anyone to know the secrets of their great pranks. Newt gritted his teeth as Minho's lips moved an inch from Max's ear. The look of surprise and delight on Max's face made Newt want to shove him.

Max let out a bark of laughter at whatever Minho said. The laugh was noticeably unsteady. "I take it back; THAT was the best one," he snickered, resting a hand on Minho's shoulder for emphasis. It lingered a beat too long.

"Agreed." Minho was sniggering too, his eyes of black diamonds gleaming in the night. He was so young and wild-looking in that instant: inky hair spiked into perfection, broad shoulders framed by a tight, charcoal-gray T-shirt. So damn beautiful, it hurt.

Newt caught Max gawking too, green gaze sweeping over the lines of Minho's body. The blonde growled under his breath. Enough of this pointless game. He pushed off the car like a graceful cat standing up, striding up behind Minho. Allowing himself to lock eyes with Max for an instant, he slipped an arm around Minho's waist. "Min, we better get home before Coal wrecks the place looking for us," he pointed out.

Minho looked at Newt then, and it was like he was falling into a dream. His gaze softened and his smirk lost its sharpness. "Yeah, you're probably right," he replied, and slung an arm around Newt's shoulders.

Newt felt triumph flicker inside of him. Take that, Max. His hand found the curve of Minho's hip and stayed there. There was only a layer of denim jeans between his fingertips and skin. A little message that stated, he's mine.

"Well, it was good to see you again, Minho," Max said politely. His smile was friendly and perhaps a bit longing when he shook Minho's hand. "Maybe I'll run into you again sometime."

"If you keep coming to Brenda's parties, then you definitely will," Minho replied, with equal friendliness. "See ya, Max."

"Yeah. See ya." Max turned his attention to Newt then. "Bye, Newt."

"Bye." Newt watched him leave, some of his sour mood lifting. But the possessiveness was still there.

"All right, let's get out of here, angel," Minho said, placing an affectionate kiss on Newt's cheek. He turned them around and they walked to the car with their arms still around each other. They had to let go for the short time it took to get in the car though.

Newt opened the door, dropped into the passenger seat, and pulled the door shut again. But instead of buckling his seat belt, he waited. As soon as Minho sat down, Newt leaned over, one hand reaching out. His fingers curled into the front of Minho's shirt as he pulled Minho's mouth onto his. Minho made a tiny sound of surprise at the kiss. Then he gave himself up to it. Newt was kissing him hard, putting all his possessiveness into it. His tongue ran along Minho's lip and Minho brought a hand up to cup Newt's jaw. But, as consuming as it was, the kiss lasted for hardly a minute before Newt broke it.

Minho stared dumbly as Newt sank back in his seat again, fiddling with the seat belt. "What was that for?" he asked at last. He sounded wonderfully dazed from the effects of the kiss.

"I just...wanted to kiss you," Newt answered carefully. He shrugged in an indifferent manner. "No reason."

Minho gave him a look. "You sound funny."

"Thanks. It's called an accent."

"No, I mean—You know what I mean."

"Not really."

"Something's bothering you." Minho studied Newt's face in faint concern. He took in the half-closed, storm-blue eyes, and the set of Newt's jaw. It suddenly clicked in his mind. Something like a knowing grin played on his mouth. "Newt, were you maybe a little jealous earlier? When I was talking to Max?"

"No," Newt scoffed, rolling his eyes. But it was painfully obvious, just from the way he tried to deny it. "Why would I be jealous?"

Minho snorted at the question as he started the car. Backing out of the car-scattered driveway, he waited until he reached the road to speak again. "Um, because you always get jealous when another guy talks to me like that."

"I do not," Newt protested, but even he knew it was no use arguing with Minho. He huffed a sigh. "I mean...I just..." He searched for words, and then gave up. "I don't like the way he looked at you," he grumbled in complaint.

Minho let out a bark of laughter. "You're crazy," he chuckled. "What d'you mean, the way he LOOKED at me?"

"He looked like he was stripping you with his eyes," Newt deadpanned.

"With his eyes, huh?" Minho's voice was laced with amusement and a hint of teasing. He loved to get on Newt's nerves, mess with him, and this was all too perfect.

"Yes," Newt answered, huffing out the word because he knew what Minho was doing.

"Okay, then listen. Since you had to watch that, I'll make it up to you. You can strip me when we get home. NOT with your eyes though." Minho flashed Newt a crooked smirk, like he knew Newt was imagining the whole thing right now.

Newt tried to keep a straight face, but his eyes gave him away; they flicked from the soft bow of Minho's mouth, to his chest, then his washboard stomach, hidden under his tee. When they reached his belt, Minho snickered darkly and Newt's gaze shot back up to his face. "Look who's taking my clothes off with his eyes now," Minho joked, and Newt blushed self-consciously.

"Whatever," he muttered, sinking down in his seat.

"Mm-hm," Minho hummed loftily in reply.

Newt vowed to get some kind of revenge for all of this.

-o-o-o-

Home was a welcome distraction from lingering thoughts about Max.

Newt exhaled a long breath when he walked through the oaken front door and continued down the hall toward the living room. He didn't even look back; Minho could close the door on his own when he came in. Newt pushed his shoes off with his feet and left them by the couch. Then he dropped down onto the cushions with a relieved sigh. It felt great to be in the presence of the familiar warm-colored walls and homey furniture. He closed his eyes as though about to fall asleep.

Minho's voice came to him from off to the side. "Going to sleep already?"

"Maybe," Newt answered without opening his eyes. "You find Coal? I didn't see her when we came in."

"She's around here somewh—" Minho suddenly broke off with a yelp and the sound of an insistent meow followed.

Newt couldn't help but smile. Coal must've jumped on Minho at that moment and startled him. Even though she was only a tiny, calico kitten. "Found her," he announced.

"No, really?" Minho asked sarcastically.

Newt opened his eyes and saw that Coal was clinging to Minho's sock like it was a stuffed animal she could sleep with. She blinked bright amber eyes at him and mewed. Minho rolled his eyes at her. "Crazy cat," he muttered. But he loved Coal, even when she acted like she had separation anxiety. He gently pushed her off his foot. She paused only to sniff his fingers before scampering off into the house.

Newt chuckled. "She's more in love with you than I am," he remarked.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I'm irresistible even to cats." Minho shrugged in an I-can't-help-it kind of way, all of his cockiness in place. He sauntered lazily into the living room, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt slipped up as he did, showing a band of smooth skin at his waist.

Newt stared at that slice of skin and then at the muscles flexing in Minho's back. His husband probably knew Newt was looking and that was the whole reason he did this, but Newt didn't care. He had an abrupt, terrible want to kiss the skin Minho's shirt showed. He shoved the thought from his mind and forced himself to look away. "So, um." He paused, cleared his throat. "Did you want to—?" He was stopped quite effectively by Minho suddenly striding to the couch and sitting, straddling Newt's hips.

Well then.

"What're you—mm." Newt was interrupted when Minho cradled his face in his hands and kissed him. It was a brief kiss. But not an innocent or chaste kiss. It was seductive, addictive, Minho sucking on Newt's bottom lip to make him release a soft sound from the back of his throat. Newt was grabbing for Minho's waist before he could stop himself, kissing back like he'd never kissed before. When Minho broke it, both were breathing heavily.

Minho's lips turned up in his devil-may-care smirk. "Sorry," he breathed, like he hadn't meant to wrap himself around Newt like this. "You're just so sexy when you're possessive of me."

Newt tried to remember when he'd been possessive because honestly, all of his thoughts had been blown away. "Oh," was all he managed to get out.

Minho chuckled. "That's it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"Well, I didn't think..." Newt trailed off, and swallowed hard. Because now Minho was taking the hem of his shirt and peeling it upward, letting it fall carelessly onto the couch. Newt wasn't prepared to be faced with so much skin. Minho was all powerful ripples of muscle and softer curves at his neck and jaw. And dear god, his ABS. Newt's fingertips itched to run down Minho's chest. He couldn't breathe.

"Minho..."

Minho cocked his head curiously. "When's the last time we had sex?" he asked lowly. He braced his forearms on the couch, on either side of Newt's head.

Newt thought. "Five days ago."

"Damn. I'm gonna have to do something about that."

Minho's fingers were playing idly in Newt's hair and Newt shivered. He was about to say something else, but then Minho gave him that look, eyelids half-closed, a seductive curve to his mouth. He leaned in far enough for the jagged strands of his hair to brush Newt's bangs. "Kiss me again," he whispered. He made it sound like it was something he wanted more than anything.

Newt felt a coil of warmth twist inside him at hearing Minho's voice go all low and sexy like that. He nipped at Minho's lower lip and heard his husband's breath hitch. Then he let their mouths sink together and kissed as though Minho was air and he'd been suffocating. Minho's fingers buried themselves in Newt's hair as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. Newt's hands started on Minho's shoulders, but then they traveled downward, over his chest, to the ripple of his stomach. They stopped on Minho's thighs and Newt heard Minho make a sound, like he was trying to hold back another, much-less-polite sound. Newt wanted to hear that other sound, badly.

Minho drew back first, his breaths coming unevenly. His eyes were fogged over with desire as he hooked his fingers under the hem of Newt's shirt. Newt sat up more to let him strip it off and toss it aside. He instantly felt a little self-conscious. He was far from skinny or weak, but he wasn't like Minho. He dropped his gaze, but then Minho bent and brushed his lips over Newt's ear. "You're beautiful," he whispered, and Newt's heart soared. He leaned up and grazed his mouth over Minho's jaw.

He kissed a path down the side of Minho's neck, dragging his teeth gently over skin. Minho's head tipped back as he exposed more of his neck to Newt. Newt reached his shoulder and kissed back up again, pausing at Minho's ear. He gave his earlobe a little lick and Minho whimpered softly. "Angel."

Newt could feel Minho's fingers dipping into his waistband, gripping it for some kind of anchor to keep him from losing himself. Newt wanted him to lose himself. He bit down on Minho's earlobe, then sucked lightly. Minho's breath left him in a harsh exhale. And because he knew Minho couldn't resist when he did this, Newt breathed in his ear, "make love to me, Minho."

Minho growled, and suddenly grabbed Newt by the wrists. Pinning them to the couch on either side of Newt's head, he attacked Newt's neck. Newt gasped raggedly, tilting his head back as Minho kissed flames into his skin. Minho was harsh and mindless, teeth scraping Newt's skin, running his tongue over the marks he left. He found the sensitive place near the center of Newt's throat and worked his teeth into it. Newt's back arched as he moaned brokenly. He wanted so badly for Minho to let go of him, so he could tear his husband's clothes off. "Minho, please," he choked out. "I want you."

Minho trailed his nose up Newt's throat. "How bad?" he asked huskily.

He nipped at Newt's skin, and Newt mewled. "Bad," he gasped out. "God, Minho, let me—" Relief and anticipation both swamped him when Minho released his wrists. He found the front of Minho's jeans and hastily fumbled to get them open. When he finally did, he shoved them down, but they stopped at Minho's knees. Newt growled in frustration. "Take them off," he managed breathlessly.

Minho smirked wickedly and pushed off the couch. He stood up for the three seconds it took to slip out of his jeans. Newt used those seconds to undo his own pants and pushed them down with one foot to the floor. Then he had no more time because Minho was on top of him again, threading his fingers into Newt's hair. Newt looped his arms around Minho's waist and crushed their mouths together. They kissed hungrily, moving to get closer, little gasps of pleasure leaving both of them. Minho wrapped one arm around Newt's neck to pull him in more, his free hand staying deep in Newt's hair. "I love you," he murmured between kisses. "God, Newt, I love you."

Newt's heart blossomed at the words and he thought he might cry. "I love you too," he whispered. "Always."

He rocked his hips up into Minho's, issuing a whine of pleasure. Minho's hands closed over Newt's waist and he pushed into Newt's hips so hard, Newt's head fell back and he groaned. "M—Min. Please."

Minho nuzzled Newt's neck. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he murmured. He sat up, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. There was, of course, the whole having-to-stand-up thing again, but he slid them off easily. Newt flushed like it was the first time, but was unable to stop admiring the perfection of Minho's body. He'd learned every inch of it, and never tired of relearning it again and again. He started to slip off his own boxers, but Minho stopped him when a hand on his waistband. "Let me."

Newt obeyed, swallowing as Minho tugged his clothing down with deliberate slowness. The blonde lifted his hips up to let Minho get it past his knees. A wave of dizziness hit him when Minho placed butterfly kisses down his thigh, following the path of his waistband down his legs. When it was gone, Newt was left trembling. Then he gasped as Minho straddled him again, skin on skin.

Minho cupped Newt's face with both hands, stroking his thumbs over his cheeks. Newt shuddered. "You're gorgeous," he blurted out, like he'd almost forgotten to say it.

Minho's mouth quirked up and he kissed Newt's lips briefly. Then he changed position slightly and they both felt it when Newt slid easily into Minho. Newt's nails dug into Minho's shoulders and Minho buried his face in Newt's neck to stifle his moan.

They were still for a few moments, Newt's chest rising and falling, Minho trying to keep himself grounded. Then Minho moved his hips forward again and Newt mewled pleadingly. The blonde clung to Minho's waist as he continued to grind into him, creating such a delicious friction that Newt couldn't stop himself from panting desperately. He thrust his hips up into Minho to match him. He must've hit a sweet spot because Minho clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his strangled whimper. Newt grasped Minho's wrist and moved it away. "Don't try to stay quiet," he murmured.

When Minho moved again, Newt thrusted into the same spot. Minho's back arched as he let out a moan of ecstasy. His movements became more desperate, harsher. Newt grabbed for the back of Minho's neck and hauled him into a kiss. Minho curled his fingers in the couch, running his tongue over Newt's teeth, and Newt gasped into his mouth. His body strained upward, and when he slid particularly roughly into Minho, Minho cried out his pleasure. The sound made Newt unravel, his entire being shaking.

They hit their climax at the same time, trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy racked their bodies. Then they collapsed against each other, with nothing but the sound of their ragged breaths in the room. It was full dark now, with beams of moonlight spreading across the floor from the windows. Newt focused on remembering how to think properly, his back pressed into the couch cushion. Minho was still curled around him, head resting on the curve of Newt's shoulder. He placed a kiss to Newt's skin. "I know I already said it," he began hoarsely, "but I love you."

Newt smiled crookedly and rubbed his hands up and down Minho's back. "I know," he murmured into the quiet. "I love you too, Minho." He nosed into Minho's neck, inhaling his alluring, dark scent. "More than anything in this world."

Minho shivered and drew back to meet Newt's eyes. He reached up with one hand and smoothed the hair back from Newt's forehead. A flash of something passed over his face, something almost like pain. "God."

Newt blinked. "What?"

"Nothing, just... You're everything. You're the only person I'll ever need like this."

Newt lowered his gaze then, because he knew he'd cry if he kept looking at Minho, hearing him say things like that. He took a moment to find a smile again and glanced up at Minho. "You wanna go to bed now?" he asked. He raised his eyebrows hopefully and added, "carry me?"

Minho groaned in exaggerated complaint. "Fine, fine." He went to stand up, slipping off of Newt. They both gave tiny sounds at the loss and Minho couldn't resist bending down for a brief kiss on Newt's mouth. Then he slid both arms under Newt, one supporting his back and the other under his knees. He lifted him up and cradled him in his arms as easy as breathing.

Newt rested a hand on Minho's chest as he started the walk back to the bedroom. Absently, he kissed the N tattooed over Minho's heart. They'd already said it dozens of times, but he ached to say it a million more times: Minho, I love you, I love you so much, it hurts, it makes my hands shake, it makes me forget my name.

They made it to the bedroom and Minho eased Newt into the blankets first. He touched a kiss to Newt's nose before sliding into the place beside him. Newt instantly shifted across the bed and into Minho's arms. He rubbed his cheek against Minho's chest and sighed in bliss. Outside, there was darkness and shadows of night. But right here, there was only Minho. Newt closed his eyes. "I'm so in love with you, you know," he whispered softly. "I don't think I could live without you now."

And Minho pulled Newt closer and pressed his lips to his hair. "You'll never have to, angel."


End file.
